


Seasonal depression

by alwerakoo



Series: "The Bubble" [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character death for wilbur, Exile, Family Dynamics, Family Reunions, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Hugs, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, IT'S A HAPPY ENDING THO I PROMISE, Parent-Child Relationship, Temporary Character Death, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wings, no romance this is about family, phil is a good dad - au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29005956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwerakoo/pseuds/alwerakoo
Summary: "The trees on the horizon, behind a wall of black smoke and soot, were slowly changing colors, and Phil held his dying son in his arms.His son called him "dad" for the very lat time in October, and no matter how long he stood outside in the rain, the blood on his hands remained the same."Or: Phil deals with the loss of his son(s)
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: "The Bubble" [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179092
Comments: 13
Kudos: 198





	Seasonal depression

Phil hates fall.

He remembers well what a nightmare it was to clean up after Techno and Wilbur, every time they came back after playing outside, shoes dirty from mud, smiling from ear to ear.

How Tommy just wouldn't sit still in the bathtub, as Phil tried to rinse the dirt from his blond hair (Tommy always argued that no, he did not roll in mud at all, but Phil couldn't find any other explanation for how he had managed to collect so much dirt behind his ears).

How the rainy weather completely ruined their family trip in October (even tho Wilbur was laughing when he jumped in every puddle they came across, splashing water on both of his brothers, the fever he tormented him for the next week definitely made him less happy).

How Techno insisted that he wasn't cold, only for Phil having to lend him his coat and gloves an hour later (and although he would return them later, completely soaked and dirty, Phil always made sure to leave an extra blanket on his bed).

How the humid air left his wings feeling wet, settling heavily on the feathers (yet the need to shield the children from rain was stronger than any discomfort he felt later, as he let his cold feathers dry by the fireplace).

He also remembered a time when fall was his favorite season.

When at the end of the day, nothing could replace those quiet moments as he rocked sleeping Tommy in his arms, watching Wilbur smoothly intertwine Techno pink hair between his fingers, squinting in the weak candlelight.

Phil collected them all, those little fragile moments, every smile, every stupid leaf they give him, every new hairstyle Wilbur tested on his brother, every piece of wood thrown into a burning fireplace.

He collected them like souvenirs. That would soon inevitably become memories from their better days, and kept them close to his heart, as close as possible.

He did, until he couldn't anymore.

When that one autumn didn't bring back the familiar warmth, he realized that there were no more muddy footprints on the freshly washed floor, family trips and no one to pressure him into reading them a bedtime story, only to fall asleep before he even finished the first page.

The trees on the horizon, behind a wall of black smoke and soot, were slowly changing colors, and Phil held his dying son in his arms.

His son called him "dad" for the very lat time in October, and no matter how long he stood outside in the rain, the blood on his hands remained the same.

And as the last splashes of green vanished from the leaves, covering the ground with a fiery carpet, Phil realized that whatever was holding their family together, had been broken a long time ago.

Tommy called Techno a traitor, and Phil couldn't pretend he didn't understand him.

Techno said Tommy was stupid and naive, and Phil found it hard to disagree.

Ghostbur was grinning as Phil stared at his hands, dyed from Blue but still bloody red in his eyes, and he wondered if he would ever be able to look him in the eyes.

He found himself quietly hoping, asking, or even praying, that the next months would pass a little faster, that a thick layer of snow would cover everything he didn't want to look at.

But before all the leaves could fall off the trees, Phil was holding his youngest son, standing on a wooden dock.

Even though Tommy was taller than him, he still seemed so small. As if he could still easily pick him up and hold in his arms, letting him fall asleep on his shoulder, humming some random melody.

He waved him goodbye. And quietly started reciting a new prayer.

And really, he should have stopped believing in gods a long time ago.

''Tommy is dead," Dream says on the same day the last leaf from L'mantree falls onto the yellow grass.

Phil didn't want anyone's condolences. He didn't want words of comfort, gifts, no sympathetic looks.

All he that wanted, was a proof. His body, at least some parts of it. That would silence the parts of his mind that wanted to hope that maybe, maybe, somehow...

Holding his eldest (the only one left) son's hand at the funeral, he couldn't force himself to even give a speech.

That fall, Phil buried two empty caskets.

Autumn left him with a void in his heart, and he knew he would never be able to fill.

He let all those memories, he held so close for so many years, fall and shatter into little pieces on the floor. Like an ancient sculpture; although beautiful from the outside, whoever created it had died a long time ago.

There was always a quiet inside Techno's house, and Phil was so desperate to grasp what was left of his family.

He wanted to hold onto Techno and never let it go. He let Ghostbur's hands color his cheeks blue.

And although the days grew colder and colder, he still refused to put on his old coat, the one that had their only real family picture stashed away in one of its pockets.

The night a thin layer of the first snow covered the roof of his house, Techno sent him a message.

Phil put on his shoes in a hurry, going over all the possible scenarios in his head.

The snowfall was not the ideal weather for flying, but it didn't really matter, because the time it took to spread his wings was enough to convince himself that 'I need you. Now.' actually meant: 'Be here in five minutes, or I'll fucking die'.

And only after landing on Techno's front porch, he let himself just breathe for a moment.

But when he opened the front door, all the air left his lungs.

His sons sat at the table, two mugs of steaming tea between them.

Both of them.

Tommy looked like he hadn't eaten in at least a week. His face was sunken, dark spots under his eyes, and his old T-shirt (with Techno's cloak dropped over his shoulder) had definitely seen better days.

Tommy was alive and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Dad?"

And before he could fully get up from his chair, Phil was already throwing his arms around him. They both fell on the floor.

Phil held him tight. As if someone would appear to remind him that his son was dead if he ever loosened his grip. As if he would lose him again.

Tommy buried his face in his shoulder, fingers grasping the back of his shirt.

Phil wasn't sure who started crying first.

Any questions that started to form in his mind were instantly shut down by this overwhelming feeling of relief.

It didn't matter anyway. It didn't matter 'how', 'why', the flowers he left on his grave that morning didn't matter.

Because suddenly, Tommy seemed so small once again. Like he used to be when, Phil was still able to hold his whole world in his wings. So small, like when he would always fall asleep to the tune of his lullabies.

His child was alive, and that was all that mattered.

Techno crouched down beside him, letting Phil's feathers fell behind his back.

December was kind and let him hold his baby in his arms once again.

Phil hated fall.

But maybe he'll give winter a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> If you see any mistakes let me know!  
> Comments are appreciated, they always make my day :)


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